


a vision softly creeping

by afrocurl, Shaliara



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Bigotry & Prejudice, Child Soldiers, Dystopia, Historical, M/M, POV Outsider, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 08:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/pseuds/afrocurl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaliara/pseuds/Shaliara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The silent war between humans and mutants should not include children. Of that Logan was sure. Except when he found three, his axis tilted and he came face to face with a battle that he would not win alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a vision softly creeping

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a pinch hit for Round Two of X-Men Reverse Bang. Many thanks to **Shaliara** for being an amazing artist. Please look at Shaliara's art [here](http://shaliara.tumblr.com/post/61005663232/x-men-reverse-bang-2013-round-2-art), and let her know how amazing it is!
> 
> To **ninemoons42** and **starxd-sparrow** for the beta.
> 
> This story combines elements from First Class, as well as the presumed big bad from Days of Future Past with additional characters from Joss Whedon's Astonishing X-Men run.

For the fifth time in the last thirty minutes, Charles adjusted his tie. He already looked impeccable, but he found that waiting in the wings seemed to make everything worse. There was no one for him to bounce last-minute ideas off of until he noticed the hard edges of Erik’s mind walking towards him.

 _You’ll be fine,_ Erik’s mental voice said. 

Right now, he could do nothing to help Charles's unease, but having the support of his friend - and his lover - was important. 

Of course, to the outside world, Erik Lehnsherr was merely Charles Xavier’s personal assistant. It was a horrible cover for what Erik truly was to Charles, but it did well enough. 

There were only so many times when Charles had to go out in person, and every time he did, Erik was at his side. 

They had been nearly inseparable since they met. Erik had nearly drowned while trying to chase down his demons, and Charles had barely managed to save him.

But their history was not open for discussion today. Today he was going to speak about the advantages of mutants being out and open in America.

He intended to allay fears mutants weren't limited to people who sported fur or scales or wings (though many did). He intended to say mutants were also people like Charles and Erik who manifested no outward signs of mutation.

“I can feel your nerves from here,” Erik said as he walked into the small anteroom to the Committee chambers.

“You’re neglecting your duties, then. You’re meant to make sure I’m relaxed before something this important.”

Charles hoped that Erik would take the less than subtle hint and help distract him before he was called to testify. 

Erik closed the distance between himself and Charles and as soon as Charles reached out, Erik cupped Charles’ face and placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

 _We have to be quick._.

\---

A scratchy voice from the television competed with the hum and general noise of the diner. Logan wanted to pay the television no mind, but the announcer spoke of something that always sparked his attention, so he turned his body to the screen and watched, temporarily forgetting his fork still laden with eggs and sausage.

“Today Congress heard from the two opposing sides of the discussion of the ‘mutant problem’ in the US. Doctors Charles Francis Xavier and Bolivar Trask were questioned by the Senate Commerce, Science and Transportation Committee to discuss the issues raised by the presence of _homo superior_.

“Xavier suggested there was nothing to fear from anyone with a mutation, for they were just one new step in the evolution of man. Without evolution, our species wouldn’t exist, Xavier went on to say.

“Trask countered that the abilities of these new mutations were so vastly different from those previously studied that all people found to possess a mutation not previously known should be studied and, if necessary, killed.

“This hearing, however was overshadowed by more of the Soviet Union’s attempts to inch closer and closer to America via resources en route to Cuba. The threat of nuclear war may be at hand.”

Logan stopped paying attention after that, his ire rising at the words from Trask’s speech. His eggs and sausage looked rather unappealing now. He had to keep himself in check if he didn’t want to catch the attention of everyone in the diner, however. 

If only the population truly knew how useful some mutations could be, especially in the wake of a war that could kill people in far greater numbers than ever before.

That was if someone would take the time to see into his past, long and storied as it was.

He threw a few bills on the counter and left before anything else set him off. Midwesterners were friendly, but even Logan doubted that they’d welcome a man with metal claws and the ability to heal himself.

-

Only ten months after Logan first heard of the academic debate between Xavier and Trask - found in Congress and not some ill-regarded conference - the first batch of mutants were rounded up and shipped off to camps, locations unknown. Lined up and pushed around like so much chattel, the images of mutants thrown out of their homes set Logan's teeth on edge and made him wish that he could unleash his claws for a few moments.

It was just like it had been for the Jews and the Nikkei more than twenty years ago and this time, he was sure, no one who entered one of these camps was going to come out.

-

The papers reported Xavier’s reaction to the government’s support of Trask’s plan in much the opposite way in which Logan imagined. There was a large editorial from Xavier, which, when Logan read it, made plenty of sense.

Xavier’s position was that mutants of all kinds were valuable and they shouldn’t be rounded up and locked away when they all possessed potential assets. However, the boon mutants could be to the population was so hypothetical that there was no way for people to see the truth in his earnest words.

Xavier also spoke of mutations as unique and as individual as every person was. Logan mused the man must know a mutant, or it was possible the man had a mutation of his own, because no one could speak out as vocally as Xavier had and in such a way as to not sound threatening and evil without intimate knowledge. Trask must have known of mutations as well, though he clearly found them abhorrent. 

It was too bad that Xavier’s impassioned and possibly hypothetical words weren’t enough to make a dent in comparison to Trask’s fear-mongering and rabble-rousing. Trask had the side of fighting for the preservation of values, while Xavier spoke of the unknown potential. 

No doubt which side was going to win in the long run, Logan realized, tossing the paper to the ground. It was all trash anyway.

Times like these made Logan all the more angry about his ability to heal.

The end of his life would be a welcome change of pace.

-

Deep in his bones, Logan knew he would be safer in Canada than in America. But with each and every story about the progress Trask was making in scaring the entire country, the more Logan felt he couldn’t leave. 

If - when - Xavier finally took some action, Logan wanted to fight at his side.

For now then, he stayed where he knew the fight would be. It was only a matter of when the time would come for him to play his role.

-

Police forces trailed suspicious individuals at Trask’s suggestion. They corraled mutants when they were caught idly using their powers. Of course, it only netted them the ones who were levitating items off a table or making a bottle of soda cooler.

Logan silently thanked whoever cared to listen that his mutation was only visible as his temper flared. Nights whiled away in bars were far more sporadic than Logan wanted now, but it kept him safe.

It was far easier to buy case after case in some nearly empty liquor store than it was for Logan to step into some backwater dive. Especially for whatever drunk fucks were in there at the time.

It all meant this: safe and free was preferable to the unknown in the camps.

-

 

Mutants were still rounded up, in bigger and more public ways as the years passed. Logan grumbled at them all and wished that there was something else that could be done. He itched to take his claws and slice through police forces. He wanted to do something and not simply hide. But, he knew that there was a record of him somewhere in Washington. He knew he had to avoid attention if he were to help anyone later.

Xavier still spoke out, but after three years of trying to debunk Trask’s claims, it had little effect. America was still scared of mutants, even though none of the mutants who had been sent off to camps had ever displayed their abilities when they were cuffed and lead away. It was simply fear that riled up the public and had them clamoring for more security and more protection from within their borders.

However, Trask’s words and fear had had another consequence: Congress had fallen to Trask’s ideas and had given him the ability to create weaponized technology against mutants.

How Trask had gotten this approval over the rising escalations in Vietnam, Logan had no clue. Kennedy had been sending “peacekeepers” before his death, and Johnson had just been given permission to quell “Communist aggression,” but that seemed to take a backseat to the threat that an unknown population possessed within America’s borders.

But it looked like Trask had found a way to get his contracts and how those contracts were more important than the military-industrial complex, Logan still wasn’t sure.

Trask wanted to create an enemy within the country, Logan knew. Only it seemed like such a stupid idea when the threat of enemies abroad had always been more galvanizing, and would always hold more power in the long run. Suppressing mutants was not going to do much compared to the suppression of Communism. At least in Logan’s mind.

On the other hand, Johnson had been trying to revitalize America from the inside with his “Great Society”. Now it seemed that that work was also meant to alienate American citizens who were essentially no different from anyone else. 

But helping mutants was less impressive than helping the poor and the historically oppressed.

America was still looking to be the world’s watchdog, even if it had more insidious problems within its borders.

Creating an enemy from within had to lead to something else.

He had nothing but guesses as to what that something else could be. But Logan knew that Trask’s plans were bad. Really fuckin’ bad.

The Great Society might be one way to make the Mutant Problem look menial, though there was nothing menial about trying to uplift certain segments of the population and not others.

-

Trask’s plans for these weaponized mutant fighters only took fifteen months to go from concept to execution. At the close of 1965 the first Sentinels rolled off the production lines, ready to attack any mutant they could detect.

Logan would be impressed if he weren’t scared by the prospect of these Sentinels and their power.

Reporters had been praising the robots - sleek, clean lines with minimal metal casing - but Logan only looked at the live demonstration and wondered how quickly he could claw his way through a leg. Or face.

He’d take anything he could get right about now.

-

Much as he wanted to avoid it, the news became Logan’s one constant. He could count on the news spoiling his mood just as he could count on his car only handling nine hours of driving a day before it wanted to sputter and collapse.

Which was to say that news was bad. Trask’s Sentinels were policing all the major cities, looking for any visible signs of mutations, any slips from those who had something beyond the baseline. The news from Vietnam was no better; bombs regularly went off in North Vietnam and troops were on the ground, wanting to fight even if orders had been otherwise.

Logan tried to avoid the cities now, though. It was easier if he didn’t find himself face to face with robotic beings that wanted to capture him and force him into a camp. 

He’d been captured before - twice in fact - and he wasn't going to let it happen again.

Sentinels were too important for the back roads and the wide expanses of land between the buzz of cities. 

There was just a small part of his brain that hoped that the likes of Xavier and his followers had managed to find a safe haven.

The road would not be a place for the likes of a seemingly pacifist academic.

-

The first photos of mutants fighting a Sentinel don’t seem to raise much public outcry. Logan wanted to expect more from humanity, but he knew far too well that when the unknown was made real, it was just as easy to hide and look away as it was to fight. 

That photo took up nearly six columns on the front page, and buried under the fold was a small shot of the North Vietnamese pressing south towards across Laos and Cambodia.

No mistaking which war the American public was more interested in.

-

When he was brave, Logan ventured closer and closer towards big cities, just to catch a glimpse at what an internal and external terror could do to the more rational side of the American population. New York teemed with unease, even from the outskirts of Westchester county and New Jersey. 

Just the threat and force of Trask’s robots had changed everything. It wasn’t just mutants that the Sentinels were scaring off, if the bits of conversations Logan overheard were true.

There was never a good way to welcome to a police state, but here it was. Who needed rights?

-

Three months trying to hide around New York City was good enough for Logan, and after he had seen and heard about the power of the Sentinels, he headed west again. There was nothing left for him to see there without his body itching for a fight, and a fight was not what he needed in turbulent times as they were.

The state highways were still safer than the Interstates, and after a few days pushing his truck as far as it would go, the engine died. The car sputtered to a dead stop and smoke rose from the hood.

He was stuck in the middle of Illinois, just north of Peoria with a broken truck and no money to buy anything else to get him anywhere that wasn’t here.

As he took stock of everything in the bed of the truck, he mused that he should have known the end was near for his beat-up girl. He hadn’t been riding the truck nearly as hard as before he stopped and did fuck-all, and it seemed that idle hands were the devil’s work.

His bags made his shoulders slump just slightly, but he left the truck on the side of a road and started to walk towards a barn in the distance.

The walk was no harder than anything he had faced in battle, the air cooling as summer bled into autumn, and just as he came close to the barn, he flung his bags near the door. If there was anyone in there, Logan wanted to come in with nothing for them to fear. He knew better than to go into an unknown space with his knives left useless in his bags.

Sniffing carefully, he tried to make out if there were any scents inside, but he found no reason to unsheathe his claws.

“Hey!” he called into the barn, just as he pushed the doors open. 

Silence met him, and as he walked further into the room, everything bounced crazily on its axis and faded into deep black.

-

Flat on his back, Logan rolled his head back and forth and tried to breathe through the pressure that had landed against his chest.

“Jesus Christ, what are you?” he asked, knowing now that someone was in the barn with him. He sat up and let his eyes adjust to the dim light of twilight.

He was met with a few small whimpers and a flash of nearly blinding white hair that scurried from one corner to the other.

“‘S’okay, whoever you are. I’m not here to hurt you.” That wasn’t exactly true, but Logan had sense to smell the fear in the room and kept himself in check.

Out of the dark corner, a boy with white hair walked out. He wasn’t whimpering, but those sounds were still coming from somewhere in the same corner from which the boy emerged.

“It’s okay, kid. I’m not gonna hurt you. Just tell me your name,” Logan said, trying to sound as nonthreatening as possible.

“Pietro,” the boy said in a stage whisper. “Wanda and Hisako are back there.” He pointed to the darkness where the whimpers stopped suddenly.

“Name’s Logan and I know that no kids should be in a barn like this. You lost?”

Pietro eyed the ground, but said nothing. Slowly, he took his eyes off his shoes and nodded his head. “We got separated from Dad and his gang earlier. They’re in another building like this. Theirs has oil drums and crates.”

“Then how about we go look for your pa. Wanda, Hisako, can you come out?” Logan was not one to deal with kids, but he wasn’t an asshole who left children without adult supervision. They were all scared and frightened, and if the punch to his chest was anything to go by, powerful mutants at that. No way would he leave them alone.

A girl with chestnut brown hair and a red headband walked out before a Japanese girl with a bob followed. It was only after Logan had taken in their faces that he noticed that all of them were wearing modified fatigues. There were straps and buckles on top of heavy wool, all in worn shades of green, red and purple. They had been travelling and living like this for months, if not longer.

“Hello, girls.” Logan waited until one of them stood closer to Pietro before he did anything else. “Before we go, though, can I ask a question? Which one of you knocked me out?”

Hisako started to cry. There was his answer. “No, Hisako, there’s no reason to cry. I’m not gonna hurt you. I was just scared. That doesn’t happen often.”

Hisako turned for support to the other girl who had to be Wanda, and then they moved to stand next to Pietro. The three of them huddled together, shivering, expecting the worst.

“I’m like you, Hisako. Well, not exactly, but see,” Logan said as he released his claws. The moonlight managed to catch one of them and reflected some light into the space.

The trio of children gasped and all but fell onto the floor next to a stack of wooden crates.

“No, don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you. Promise.” Crouching to their level was the best he could do, and he tried to be close, but not too close to them. 

“I don’t hurt anyone like me.” He knew that he had to tell them something or else they’d never leave with him. “Well, it’s too late to walk now, so why don’t we get some sleep and then go in the morning? I’ve got some bags outside that you can use as pillows and blankets.”

-

 

Logan woke just as the sun started to peek through the doors of the barn, and as he turned away from his side of the barn, he looked at the three children he had found the night before. 

They looked ready to fight - clad in clothes as close to fatigues as possible - and that made him question everything he knew about any mutants fighting against the Sentinels. Clearly, even these children were ready to take on the robots, and that meant that Logan should have been doing more. Instead of avoiding the Sentinels, he should have been fighting them. He should have been on the front line trying to break the fear Trask had created and not avoiding it to stay safe.

He cursed silently that this was what had come from a discussion that was meant to be academic years before. 

Maybe he had been wrong about Xavier’s methods if this was what had come of other mutants. Or maybe these children were just part of some small-scale outpost, no more than dogged warriors who had no plan of attack.

As he was watching the three sleepers Logan saw Pietro stir, rise from his blankets, then leave the barn in a flash of muted green and white.

There was nothing that Logan could do for Pietro, given that Logan’s own mutation wouldn’t make him fit to chase after a boy who ran that fast, but the boy’s departure did make him wonder about Wanda’s powers. 

“Hisako and Wanda, time to wake up,” he said calmly, leaving the girls with their distance. Wanda stirred slowly, and Logan watched the swatch of red by her head bob to and fro. Hisako was much slower to rise, but when she did, Logan watched as Wanda gave the other girl plenty of room to wake up.

Just as Logan was about to come closer to the girls, Pietro ran back into the room.

“Slowpokes,” Pietro said. 

“Not all of us can be so fast,” Wanda said back, her voice just this side of a whine.

“I don’t do whining,” Logan said because he could feel the room’s energy change as the two started to circle each other.

“They do it all the time; they’re twins,” Hisako said, as she started to fold her things back up.

“Still doesn’t mean I deal with it. Come on, kids. We’ve got some walkin’ to do.”

-

They had been walking for just a few miles when both Pietro and Wanda suddenly stopped dead in their tracks. This wasn’t like one of their previous stops - the three children being able to walk no more than a half-mile at best before they needed a small break to rest their legs. 

Logan had no idea what to do, but Hisako seemed to find it normal and made no comment. Usually when she was the one to need a rest, she’d drop to the ground and wait. Logan found it frustrating and endearing, depending on which child stopped him first. 

“We’re close. They’re in the barn over there,” Pietro said as he pointed to a red barn that looked as if it was close to collapse. “Only we’re supposed to wait a while. Emma says to wait maybe two hours before we come in.”

“And who’s Emma?” he asked, because he wasn’t one to take orders well.

“She’s a friend of Dad’s. She’s like Charles. We’re not supposed to question her,” Pietro added, as if that was the explanation to everything.

Logan huffed, but made no move to walk closer to the barn - even if it was only a quarter-mile away. Out of curiosity, he did try to smell the area to figure out why they had a timetable attached to their arrival.

The air smelled of sex - sweat and spunk - even from there.

That was a damn good reason to stay put, Logan mused as the kids all sat in between stalks of corn and chatted.

-

It was surprising how quickly they were able to traverse the last quarter-mile, though Logan knew better to question what it was that suddenly made the children all want to arrive.

Their moods had changed drastically. Not that his was any different, but he tried to keep his senses sharp in case the children were part of some elaborate plot to capture him.

“They're not a plot at all,” a voice said as Logan and the children walked into the barn. Seated against a few Trask boxes and Roxxon Oil drums was Charles Xavier, dressed in a fashion similar to the children. “We never look to harm one of our own,” Xavier added.

Next to Xavier stood a man who started to twirl some chain in the air. He made no attempts to speak, focused on the subtle moments of his hand and the chains above his head.

“Welcome, Logan, to our group. We’re small in number, but I imagine you know enough about working in such conditions.”

His hackles raised briefly before he finally remembered that Xavier must have been a mutant. Pietro had said that Xavier was like that Frost woman. 

“Quite right, I’m a telepath. Erik Lehnsherr, here, he’s a master of magnetism. Emma, as Pietro told you earlier, is another telepath. She’ll bring in Remy, Ororo and Hank in a few minutes. Except for Hank, they all went to get provisions.”

Logan just stood and watched Xavier and Lehnsherr. He tried to smell the room to figure out more and as he did, the smell of sex wafted by. It was faint - almost gone - but it was clear that Xavier and Lehnsherr were the reason for their late arrival. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m sure,” Lehnsherr said before he gave Xavier a look and walked out. The children all followed Lehnsherr out of the barn. The twins all but clung to Lehnsherr’s legs and Hisako trailed behind, as if nothing was wrong with the scene.

“So, Logan, what would you like to discuss?”

-

For all the times that Logan had been forced into awkward and uncomfortable positions, standing fifteen feet from Charles Xavier had to top the list. The man was nothing like Logan had seen for years on television and in photographs; now Xavier showed signs of battles - his face criss-crossed with two distinctive scars - and he looked worn and beaten down.

“I don’t know what there is to discuss,” Logan said.

“Oh there always is something to talk about. The Sentinels for example.”

-

Logan’s stray thoughts from years ago turned out to be truth; Xavier had collected allies and had been working on a way to combat the Sentinels in small scale attacks so far. 

“We’ve picked up everyone along the way, when we could. We each serve a different purpose when it comes to collecting information on the Sentinels, as I’m sure you can guess.”

“I don’t see how kids fit in,” was all Logan could say, because Xavier had done a good job of explaining everyone’s mutations.

“The twins are with Erik - no questions asked - and Hisako we found when we were on our way out of New York City. We were not going to leave her in that city with her power.”

“But then how did you manage to get what you need?”

“You’d be surprised what you can get from a few sex-crazed men in development when they look at Emma. Or what can happen with Remy and Ororo work together to destroy a few low-level facilities. Erik hasn’t had to do much work at all. Well, no more work than finishing off the work of Remy and Ororo.”

Logan pondered the statement and tried to fit the pieces together. He had a hard time working with what he knew.

“Why don’t I just have everyone come in and it’ll all make sense,” Charles said, raising one hand to his temple.

-

Frost’s role - not counting telepathy - was as clear as day when she walked into the barn. She had curves that would turn more than a few heads, even as she was currently dressed in a beige sweater and green pants. 

“I normally wear white, sugar, and not a lot of it,” she said. She and Xavier were equally unrepentant in knowing his thoughts, which grated.

LeBeau flashed a card or two outside of the barn in demonstration of his explosions and Munroe dropped small clouds to extinguish the fires.

McCoy, when he appeared, made Logan smile. At least someone else in the group looked like they could stand a good fight. McCoy's only problem was that he was blue, and rather furrier than even Logan would ever be.

But, aside from that, Logan saw the benefit to everyone in the work that Xavier had described earlier. 

“Sorry to crash this little party, folks, but I was told you were gonna take out these Sentinels. How the hell is that working?”

“You’ll be a nice addition to the plan, Logan,” Xavier started to say before he kept going.

Logan tried to focus on the words, but only caught every fourth or fifth word. “Production”, “destruction”, “Peoria” were all Logan fully understood, even if everyone else was making no signs that they were as confused as Logan.

 _We’ve been here longer, sugar. We know this plan inside and out. Let me just give it to you_ , Emma said to him mentally before he was hit by a barrage of diagrams, blueprints and details.

He nearly fell over from the information, and only Lehnsherr’s quick reactions saved Logan.

-

Knowing better than to ask questions, Logan took in all the remaining planning sessions with the team. Despite the plan’s organization once they were at the production facility, there were smaller details to work out: transportation, contingencies, and who would watch the children. 

Logan’s claws, mixed with Pietro’s speed, Hisako’s psychic armour and Wanda’s reality-bending, made them the perfect team to lead the attack.

Even if Logan thought children were never meant for battle.

 _They’ve been at Lehsherr’s side since we found them. They are his children and he knows that they can protect themselves_ , Emma said.

It was easier, after that, to go along as the first wave. They had to only enter the facility and start to work on the staff before everyone else could take their turns.

Dread pulled at Logan’s gut, but after everything else in the plan was firmly in place, he tried his best to sleep and prepare for the next day.

-

In all his years fighting, his infiltration with the children had been the smoothest. Wanda’s powers were stunning to watch - men falling to their feet in horror at the worlds she created. It was no work at all, then, for Pietro to run through the building and disable the cameras. Hisako’s powers, while astonishing to watch, were not needed once Wanda’s powers fully took effect. 

They were still moving slowly through the ground floor, looking for the elevator to take them to the nearly finished Sentinels when Logan smelled danger.

“Hisako, be alert,” he said as he took the lead. He hoped that her reaction times were quick enough to stop whatever he sensed.

Just as they were in the elevator, the building shook. Pressing the button as quickly as possible, and ignoring every sign that existed in the history of the world, he led the children into the heart of the factory.

Doors opened quickly and just as Logan’s claws were out, he saw the legs of a score of Sentinels approaching.

“Hisako, now!” he yelled, just as he grabbed the twins.

 _Sentinels are active in the basement,_ he sent to Frost and Xavier, hoping that they had just enough time to stop everything.

Hisako’s armour grew in front of his eyes and she was ready to punch when the ceiling was ripped away. Lehnsherr levitated down, just as his hands balled into fists. All around them, the Sentinel legs crumpled and flatted.

Logan thought to ask exactly how Lehnsherr’s magnetism allowed him _that_ much power, but focused instead on keeping Pietro and Wanda away their father’s wrath.

 _These were the last of those in production_ , Xavier said. _But we’ll need to look into how we can dismantle all of the Sentinels already in use._

Logan thought he had an idea how, but he’d wait to share it until they were no longer surrounded by the parts of scores of Sentinels that were designed to kill them.

He still wasn’t sure how Lehnsherr’s powers, let alone those of everyone else, were working here when no other mutants’ powers had worked before.

 _We’re all a talented group, Logan. Stick around and you might watch the rest of the fight from the front lines._ Even Xavier’s mental voice was calm, despite the danger of this mission.

Truthfully, though, Logan wanted to be nowhere else. If he was going to take down the evils facing mutants, Xavier’s group wasn’t a bad place to start.

\---

Public perception was a strange thing. Erik had always hated the public - it had never served him well in the past - but now that he was in the public eye, he hated the way that eyes followed him.

Even in the privacy of Charles’ family mansion, there were two sides to Erik Lehnsherr. There was the side that everyone in their team knew - a man who loved his mutation and who loved Charles wholeheartedly - and then there was the public side that was just Charles’ assistant.

He hated that the world wouldn’t accept what he was to Charles. Stonewall was still just a distant memory, and the country seemed ready for so much more violence.

As he thought of the world, he was glad that he was here with Charles and that they were making plans to be more than just a small safe haven. 

It was still a marvel to Erik that they were going to start a school - a sanctuary - for young mutants.

Hisako, Pietro and Wanda would no longer be the only children that Charles’ mansion would house as they had already received applications and calls about families who were looking for someplace to let their children grow.

As soon as the thought of new additions in the house crossed his mind, however, Erik had to pause. He was unsure if he could lead so many children. He had barely had any time to be a father to Pietro and Wanda on the road, and Charles had been so forceful and determined about what good they could have been.

Erik was also sure that all of these new guests were going to hamper everything that he wanted to do for and with Charles.

 _Don’t be so crass_ , Charles said before he walked into their shared study.

“I’m always crass,” Erik said in reply, meeting Charles at the door to kiss him. They stayed that way for what felt like hours, even though Erik knew it had only been a few minutes. But to kiss Charles, to be with him in that way, always felt longer and more special than it appeared to the rest of the world.

And there he was, cycling back to his hatred of public and private personas.

_Forget it. We have more important things to do with our time. Everyone’s been informed - by Emma - that the house is off limits for the next few hours._


End file.
